Sexual Suicide
by Sapphire Smoke
Summary: She always knew he'd be the one to save her... but she never thought she'd be the one to destroy him. •Parker/Hardison•
1. Part I

**Title:** Sexual Suicide  
**Author:** Devereauxx  
**Beta:** Koryou on LJ  
**Fandom:** Leverage  
**Rating:** M  
**Pairing(s):** Parker/Hardison (includes references to Parker/Nate, Parker/Sophie, Parker/Eliot) ... oh and there's some Nate/Eliot UST  
**Summary:** She always knew he'd be the one to save her... but she never thought she'd be the one to destroy him.  
**Warning:** **** DARK!FIC **** like, for real. It has a happy ending, I have a sickness with those, but this is kind of uber!dark. _There is no character death: the title is a metaphor lol_. This deals with a very real sex addiction and how it can form and manifest in people and pretty much destroy their lives.  
**A/N:** I've written a couple stories for Leverage that has to do with real, dark issues like this before, but this is the first time ever posting it publicly. Well, okay, I did deal with domestic abuse and have skated lightly over rape, but this is much more in depth and... yeah. So. Read at your own risk.

**PART I**

Parker remembers the night she first had sex.

She remembers how old she was, though she doesn't like to think about it anymore. She remembers the darkness – she was sleeping. At least, she was at first. Snuggled into her bed with Bunny, nothing but the moonlight shining through the window. A hazy memory; maybe foggy from just being woken, but she almost remembers his hands taking off her clothes. Confusion; there was a lot of that. Jerking up straight in bed and being pushed down with a hand over her face to muffle her screams; it almost suffocated her. Wide eyed fear and muffled pleas for it to stop were cut short by the worst pain she's ever felt when he ripped her apart from the inside out.

Her therapist told her not to ever refer to that as sex, and especially never to refer to it as losing her virginity. Parker never listened to her though; she found no point is listening to someone who was paid to pretend they care. Once she was out of the system, and therapy from that "traumatic experience" was no longer mandatory, she stopped going.

Parker remembers that she didn't even start masturbating until she was nineteen years old.

She knows that is in no way normal, but she didn't ever want to touch herself. It always felt dirty down there. She didn't like looking at it, she didn't like having it _there._ She wished sometimes she could just get rid of it all together, but she didn't know how. She took out her anger on her body, leaving her scarred in places no one ever saw for a long, long time. Even when they did, no one ever had to guts to ask about it. Parker decided though that if they did ask she would tell them, hoping to hell that they would just leave her alone, even though she's the one who propositions everything. All of it. All the time…

The first time she masturbated she never went inside herself. That area was meant to destroy, not pleasure. She didn't mean for it to start happening, but she was frustrated. A heist didn't go her way and she was just so _pissed_. The tightness was all through her body; consuming her, driving her crazy. Furiously she took off her clothes and got in the shower, and as she washed herself hard, roughly, just trying to get out her anger, her soapy fingers slipped over her clit and she moaned.

So fuck it. She found a new way to release her anger. The tightness disappeared and she could relax for a little while. But it was just like a drug, or so she would assume. She's never done drugs, but she knows that's how it goes. The high is never as good as the last; the craving comes quicker than before. All the anger, the hate, the rage at herself, at _him_, at fucking everyone and everything that was built up, suddenly came pouring out because of the possibility of a release… and she couldn't keep up with it.

Parker was never good with people.

So how she ended up having real, mutual sex for the first time when she was twenty one, she has no idea. She never really thought of herself as particularly beautiful. She was just kind of _there_… like that fire hydrant or the lamp post she could see from her spot against the cold, hard brick wall as she was taken like a prostitute. She was just part of the scenery then… and hell, she can't even remember his name now. Joey or… damn, maybe Robert. For all she knows he could have been a Billy or a Tommy Lou, but that isn't the point. She's pretty sure she knew at the time, anyway. Hopefully. But it didn't matter.

It was hard at first. His hands, his dirty little hands touching all her dirty little places. She'd moan because it's what she's supposed to do, she'd tell him more because that's what he wants to hear. She'd suck his cock even though it scared her half to death, and she'd take it exactly how he wanted to give it to her because she needed the release.

It was so hard at first. But it got easier.

Parker's lost count of how many people have had her, and part of her hates herself for that. She started slipping deeper into insanity, and now her own thoughts don't make sense to her. She hears half the things that come out of her mouth and how they're ridiculous but yet she needs to say them. She needs to speak; always. Speaking is just another form of control.

Parker needed control.

Parker needed control to trust. So meshing into this domesticated little lifestyle with a team of well known thieves and a half drunk ex insurance guy… well, trust needed to be formed. She needed control over all of them in order to feel safe.

Parker never knew the real meaning of the word 'safe' though.

She took Nate first, though she's sure he doesn't remember. He was drunk, fumbling, could barely even get his damn zipper down and his cock hard and she's pretty sure he was on something other than just booze. He slurred his words and his eyes crossed and yeah, she took him first because he would be the easiest. Liquored up and a pathetic mess; he screamed to be the first one to take the ride. She tasted gin on his lips as his uncoordinated hands tore at her panties, and when he slipped inside of her she tried to think of rainbows and gummy bears.

He was actually pretty horrible, but whether that was due to his incapacity because of the liquor or because he was just bad in bed normally, she never knew. She doesn't even care.

Sophie was next, the motherly figure that she was. It was wrong and it was dirty to have her because of that, but maybe if her own fucking mother gave half a shit she wouldn't have this urge. Sophie was harder, more difficult to coerce. When Parker kissed her for the first time Sophie pushed her away, this worried look coloring her face like she knew more about her just from one kiss than any words could ever say. Parker hated that, she hated all of that. She didn't need Sophie to know anything, ever. But with subtle touches, whispered promises of ecstasy and a request filled with all the fake emotion she could muster up for Sophie to help her feel good about herself… she gave in. Twice, actually.

Sophie was beautiful when she came, and Parker's pretty sure she despises her for it.

Sophie hates herself for it now though, she can see that. She tries to talk to her about it, but Parker just stares at her blankly and diverts the conversation to any random thing that pops up into her brain. Every time it leaves Sophie confused and full of self loathing and leaves Parker feeling something in her gut that might actually be guilt, if she ever knew what that really felt like.

Eliot was both easy and hard at the same time. He was stuck on being some kind of gentleman, thinking Parker's just some confused _child,_ and so for a long time he resists. It was all about knowing what would get him going though, and who knew it would be glasses? She slid to her knees in front of him, looked up over the rim, and already knew she had him before his own hands flew to his pants. After she sucked him off good and hard he took her, bent over Nate's island counter while everyone else was out on the job, and she swears he made her head spin all the way around.

God, Eliot was _good._

She had him maybe fifteen times before he finally told her that he wasn't gonna be her little fuck toy anymore. She thinks he half expected her to really like him, and the other half of that speculation is that she's pretty sure that he was hoping she started to. But she didn't tell him that, it wouldn't be true. She just turned around and walked out the door, and that was that.

Eliot's been grumpier than usual ever since then.

Parker meant to have Hardison before this, after all, she did kind of enjoy how big black men were. But then she realized how damn easy it was going to be, and she wanted more of a challenge. But all of her challenges were over, and then there was him. She didn't even say anything; she knew she wouldn't have to. She just pushed him up against a wall, her lips finding his and her shirt peeling off of her body so repetitively that sometimes she wonders why she even bothers to put clothes on in the first place. She expected his stutters and his confusion, but she didn't expect him to say:

"No."

"What?" she asks breathlessly, stepping away from him. Her chest is heaving, she feels the need inside of her threatening to devour her whole and spit her back out again. It almost hurts and she… she _needs _it. She doesn't have time for this. "You stare at my breasts all the time." He wasn't now though, his hand was over his eyes. This was unfortunate. Wasn't he wanting this every day for… ever?

"Parker, no, what you're… Parker, just, no. You're not thinking clearly."

"I'm not retarded," she states, angry. She knows she's not completely one hundred percent functional in the brain area, but she isn't _stupid._ "I know what I'm doing. I'm not a virgin. And I would like your dick inside my mouth." She pauses, hoping maybe a request would work better with him. "Please," she adds, as an afterthought. It's not pleading though, just more of a statement.

"Trust me, I know you're not a _virgin."_ She hates the way he says that. It makes the hurt spread, not just in her groin area from the need but something around her chest. What the hell was that? She decides she doesn't like it. It's tight and it makes her feel like she's suffocating even though no one has a hand pressed over her nose and mouth.

"So then what's your problem? I have a nice body, everyone says so. It's curvy in the right places and really soft. I know you want to touch it."

"I'd rather not be the five hundredth one, thank you," he states in a flat voice, but it's colored in hurt. Her eyes widen.

"What are you talking about?" she tries to keep her voice steady, but it deceives her. It shakes a little, and she wishes she could strangle her own voice for a second just so it will do what it's supposed to.

"I'm not stupid, Parker," Hardison says, and his voice… god, his voice. She wishes he wouldn't use that tone, it's making her chest hurt more. "You… god, you fuck… _everything."_ He says it like it's bordering on disgusting, and her eyes mist over. What's happening? This has never happened before! "You're out of control."

"Are you _stalking _me now?!" she asks angrily, and he takes his hand away from his eyes to glare at her. He's so hurt, just like her. But she doesn't understand why. Why does he _care? _She grabs her shirt back from off the floor and puts it back on. Obviously she was not going to have sex with him tonight.

Binocular boy. Pervert.

"You know everyone is tagged with GPS, Parker! You know Nate has me make sure we're all _safe._ And you… you've been everywhere. I didn't know what was going on and I was so fucking _worried _about you, that something was going on that you couldn't tell us, or didn't want help with. I even thought you were just compulsively stealing, and you know how Nate freaks out over that. I didn't expect to see you… god. See so damn _much _of you. See how much _everyone_ has seen of you." There's a pause and he looks at her, letting her know how much he knows. "God, even _Sophie._ No wonder she needed a break from all of us, the team. It's not just Nate, and I think you know that."

This feeling… she hated this feeling. She couldn't describe it, she's never had it before, but she's pretty sure it's shame. But it infuriates her because damnit, now she's _crying._ She feels one tear slide down her cheek, almost like it's taunting her. Shit, this is not acceptable. She decides she hates him, decides that she kind of wants to hurt him. He's so mean, he's ruining _everything!_ She is not part of the reason Sophie left, she _isn't!_

"There's nothing _wrong _with me!" she shouts, though she's sure she's only saying that to convince herself. Did he even say there was? Now she's confused. Angry, hurt, crying, and so confused. She doesn't like it here anymore. Not here with him. He ruins everything. It's like he cracked her in half like an egg and now she was oozing yellow stuff. Disgusting yellow stuff.

"Parker, you sleep with everyone! From the way Eliot's been acting I'm sure you've already had sex with him, and Nate… god, I don't even want to think about_ that_, if you did." He shudders a little, and she can't stop herself from going at him, the palms of her hands connecting with his chest as she shoves him back as hard as she can against the wall, knocking the wind out of him. She didn't even know she had moved until it had already happened. Was she starting to black out? This can't be good.

Parker screams, "I HATE YOU!" the fury raging up inside of her. But the instinct to flee is too strong, her fight or flight instinct somehow makes her choose flight and then she just leaves. Runs, is more accurate. She runs away as fast as she can. She doesn't even know where she's going anymore, but it doesn't matter. She's out the door and into the streets and she's fucking _flying._ The wind's in her hair, making the tears down her face stream back towards her ears. She just runs… she runs until her legs won't carry her anymore and she collapses somewhere.

Some man finds her, covers her in his coat and picks her up off the ground and wipes her tears away. Some random man, just being nice. He's asking her all sorts of questions that she can barely even hear. She can't think; everything hurts so badly and she just needs it to stop. It was like pain and agony didn't realize that they were so similar and kept fighting each other inside of her with tiny little emotion-clad swords.

Stabbing. Stabbing.

Another dirty alleyway. Maybe this is where she belongs. The man has no idea what's going on, how in the hell it got to this point, but he's a real man (unlike fucking Hardison) and he just goes along with it. She's sucking him off, his strange little dick deep in her throat… when all of a sudden he is very much _not there anymore_. She looks up to see him stumbling backwards, and she hears shouting.

"Get the hell away from her!" Hardison screams at him, shaking out his hand. Did he just _punch_ him??

Parker wants to tell the man no, that he can stay and Hardison needs to leave, but the guy's already zipping up his pants as he retreats in the opposite direction. It infuriates Parker. She stands up and shoves him backwards, "Leave me ALONE!"

"No! I'm not gonna sit here and watch you destroy yourself, Parker! Not anymore!" he screams back, trying to grab her wrists to make her stop hitting him, but he's nowhere near her level of training. He tries, he does. Not to fight her, but to subdue her. But she gets in one clean punch across the cheek and he stumbles, and as she throws him into the wall, pinning him face first into the jagged brick while holding his arms behind his face, she screams:

"WHY DO YOU _CARE?!"_

Fuck, she's pretty sure she sees some blood on his forehead. Oh god, what is she doing? She doesn't even know who she is anymore. And it gets so much worse when he gasps out, a shuddered breath, obviously in pain from what she did to him:

"Because… because I love you…"

She lets him go then, she doesn't know what else to do. It's like something just hit her straight in the face and, damnit, is she bleeding or is she—? It's wet on her cheeks, and as she starts screaming again, her sobs making her damn near unable to understand. She realizes she's crying again. "Why?!" she demands. Why can't she breathe? She's feeling dizzy. "You don't know me! You don't know _anything!_ I'm _dirty!"_

And then she's on the ground, and she doesn't know how she got there. Her legs must have collapsed beneath her. She puts her hand on her forehead, trying to stop the dizziness, trying to have some coherent thought about what the hell is going on but all she can hear is her own sobs and she can barely see through her tears.

The stabbing is everywhere now, all over her body. Maybe she's stabbing herself. All the tiny little swords trying to shred her apart from the inside; destroy her and everything she's become.

Parker feels him there though, Hardison. She can feel his arms around her and can hear him saying something but she can't make out what it is. She can't stop crying. She can't even move, can't speak. Then she's lifted off of her feet and he's carrying her, and all she can do is hold on and try to stop the tears that continue to fall despite her best efforts.

Somehow they made it to her house, and he sets her down on the couch. She's still crying, but it's more like dry heaving now. She doesn't think she has anymore tears left in her body. When she can finally see, the first thing she sees is him, and she chokes back a sob as she looks at his face and what she _did._

There's a bruise forming on his cheek, and a noticeable gash on his forehead. But he doesn't even seem to_ care_, and she can't understand that. He's looking at her, worried, like all that matters to him in the world is her. She doesn't understand any of it. She reaches up to him slowly, hesitantly, and then she touches the blood. When she withdraws her hand and looks at the crimson staining her fingers, she starts to cry more, and he just wraps his arms around her.

"Just a scratch," he tells her. She doesn't understand. She doesn't understand _him._ He should hate her right now. Why doesn't he hate her?

Then she realizes… she's not in her house.

"What the hell happened?!" Nate screams, frantic as he rushes over to them, coming down his steps from his bedroom. He takes in the form of distressed Parker and bleeding Hardison, and he's freaking out. Parker's trying to stop crying, but she can only dull it.

"Just… someone messing with us. Asshole mugger. Don't worry, it's fine," Hardison tells him. "But Parker's frantic and your house was closer. Sorry, didn't mean to—"

"I was already awake," Nate finishes his train of thought. "And no, you are not _fine._ You need stitches. Come on, we'll get you to the hospital."

"I… I… _h-hit_ him…" Parker manages to get out through her sobs, looking at the blood on her hand. God, she hated everything about herself right then, in that moment. She wishes the swords would just gouge her eyes out. Stupid tiny little emotion fighters, they aren't even doing it right.

"Parker, _you_ did this?!" Nate shrieks, and Hardison's up in a flash to defend her, though she knows she doesn't deserve it.

"Leave it, man. Can't you see she's upset about it enough? Just call Eliot, have him watch her while we go to the hospital," he tells him, but Parker doesn't want to be left with Eliot. She doesn't want to be left with any one of them. She ruined all of them, she did it to feel safe and in control and she doesn't feel like either of those things anymore.

But they don't leave until Eliot gets there, and Eliot knows how she's prone to sneak away, so he continues to watch her like a hawk. She had stopped crying by now though, but all she can do is wrap her arms around her legs as she's curled up in a ball on the couch, keeping one eye on Eliot like _he's_ the one who should be watched.

"So you punched out Hardison," Eliot says finally, after maybe a good long stretch of twenty minutes silence. She doesn't say anything, just looks at him. "Wanna share why, exactly?"

"No."

"Fair enough," Eliot says, leaving it be for the moment. He sits down on the armchair and picks up the paper. He crosses his legs, looking down at the paper and says in this casual conversational way that has no business as the tone used in the sentence, "But I'm glad someone finally told you no."

"Fuck off." She tries to make it sound intimidating, but all it comes out sounding like is weak and pathetic. He cocks an eyebrow at her.

"That's something you're not gonna be doing for awhile."

"You're just mad because you were too weak to resist me," Parker spits out angrily. "You still are. You'd do me in a second if I wanted you to right now. You like the way my body looks naked, I know that." Part of her wanted him to. It still hurt inside. It's bursting to get out and she can't… she can't make it go away. She hated how that sounded coming out of her mouth. It was so pathetic. It makes her cringe and start compulsively rubbing her hands together.

She feels dirty.

Eliot has the nerve to _snort_ as he chuckles. Asshole. "Have you taken a look at yourself lately, darlin'? You're a mess. And no, not a hot one either." She just glares at him, but continues to try to wipe her hands clean, even though they already washed them. "We're all sick of this," he tells her flatly. "This is stopping now. Look at yourself…"

She doesn't answer, she just chooses to look away from him, deciding that his presence isn't worthy for her eyes. It made her feel better in her head, anyway. Her nails scratch at her palm, over and over. Eliot finally realizes what she's doing and tells her, "Stop it, Parker. Stop."

"I'm dirty," she says, trying to rub it off. It felt like bugs were crawling all over her, and the pain in her groin still hasn't subsided. He gets up and slaps her hands away before grabbing them, looking at her seriously.

"There's nothing on them."

Parker doesn't say anything. They look at each other for a long time before she takes the remote and flips on cartoons, turning her eyes away from him. Maybe Bugs Bunny would make the pain go away. It wasn't like a drawing of a rabbit could get her any hornier than she already is. And he definitely couldn't make her feel any dirtier.

…If she even is horny. She doesn't even know anymore. She swears being horny used to feel good, now it just feels like it's tearing her apart inside. Maybe this isn't being turned on, but something else entirely. She's not stupid; she knows she has a problem. She knows sex is her heroin, but she keeps needing another fix. It makes everything go away. Like all the tiny little bugs and the dirtiness all over her.

Orgasms… they were her real drug. For one, perfect, so short moment… everything didn't completely _suck._

God, she needs to steal something.

When Eliot gets up to go get some coffee, she gets up as well, following him into the kitchen. He's watching her, thinking she's going to try to seduce him. But she just leans against the counter as she watches him pour himself a cup. "I want one," she says.

"I'm not giving you _coffee,"_ Eliot tells her, like that's a stupid idea.

"Why?"

"Your system doesn't need caffeine. Personally, I really wish you would just go to sleep. Least then you'd…" he trails off, and she's annoyed at how easy it was to lift his wallet from him just then. She throws it back at him, annoyed, and he catches it. She's pretty sure he just let her do that, because he didn't seem surprised.

"I'd what?" she snaps, annoyed.

"You wouldn't hurt. Least for a little while," he tells her as he puts his wallet back in his pocket. She just stares at him, setting her jaw.

"I'm not in pain." She didn't need anyone to know that. No one would ever understand. They don't have bugs and dirt and little sword emotion-clad idiots stabbing her.

"Your pain is written all over your face."

"Just… leave me alone, Eliot," Parker snaps again, and turns to go back into the living room. She collapses on the couch, feeling so… exposed. This wasn't how this was supposed to go, any of this. All of them knew she had some sort of problem, and she just didn't… she didn't need this. She is in pain, but with everything else going on, somehow she's able to ignore it, for the most part. She's exhausted though, and before she knows it… she does fall asleep. And yes, it didn't hurt anymore. At least for a little while.

When she woke up she wasn't in Nate's house anymore, but she wasn't in her own either. She sits up, disoriented a little, and looks around. Where was she?

Then she see's Hardison in the other room, passing by the doorway. His eyes flicker over to check on her, and when he realizes she's awake he smiles a little, and walks into the room. "Hey," he says softly.

"Why am I here?" she blurts out automatically, not understanding why she was in his bed if he wasn't going to have sex with her.

Or did they already and she just can't remember? Can she have sleep sex? That would be new. Would that mean she has a new talent? That could be cool. Maybe she can do other things in her sleep… hey maybe she steals in her sleep already. Or do you have to sleep walk to do all those things? She has no idea.

"You, Parker, are here because you are on lock-down."

Parker blinks heavily, looking at him like he just told her that she was here because she needed to ride an elephant. It made that much sense to her. "What?"

"You're going through sex-detox," he clarifies. Her eyes widen.

"_What?"_

"For one whole month you aren't going to have sex," he tells her, though stays far enough away from her just in case she plans to attack him again. He pauses, "Of _any _kind," he tries to clarify, hoping she'll get it so he doesn't have to say it out loud.

"You're locking me up for a _month?!"_ she shrieks. What the hell was that?! She's not an _animal!_

"No, not technically. You'll be able to go out, do jobs… you just get a chaperone. But that has to be earned first."

Parker's eyes flash, but her voice is hoarse and she doesn't want to scream anymore. Especially looking at the state he's in… that bruise on his face and that bandage on his forehead… she can't. Not at him. But she crosses her arms, and she knows she's pouting like a five year old, but goddamnit she can't help it, and she says sarcastically, "Fine, do whatever. Locking me up with a man probably isn't the smartest thing, but sure, go right ahead."

She wanted to scare him away, since apparently everyone is scared of her sex now, but he doesn't even flinch. Why is he so confident? It's annoying. It's like when the rainbow colors come on the TV screen and they do that test beep. No, sorry, it's more annoying than that.

"Well Nate thought it would be smarter to call Sophie and ask her to help, but after finding out you had sex with _her _too – which, by the way, he's really not too happy about… I'd stay clear for awhile if I were you – Eliot decided it's better that I do it since I seem to be the only one who _hasn't _seen what your bottom line is."

Parker just stays silent, arms folded across her chest.

"Which, on that note: Ew? I can't believe you had sex with _Nate."_

"He was drunk."

"I was thinking more along the lines of _you_ had to be the one drunk to do _that_, but whatever," Hardison says. He's still making this face like he has a bad taste in his mouth. Parker really doesn't like it. She doesn't need her sex to be _judged._

"I don't drink."

"Which is why I find myself questioning your sanity."

"Please go away now," Parker requests, angry. She didn't want to be badgered like this. If she has a problem and needs to be getting better, isn't everyone supposed to be _nice _to her? Tough love isn't very much fun.

Love.

She remembers what Hardison said to her, and her eyes widen. Hardison doesn't seem to notice though. "There are cameras," he points all around, "Everywhere. Don't try anything."

She pushes that love thought out of her mind. Maybe he didn't mean it. "Like going out the window?"

"Go for it, if you can drop down ten stories and walk away without a scratch without your gear. Sure," he says, and she just glares at him. "And no, that's not what I meant. I know you can't leave anyway except the large vent in the living room and the front door, and you ain't getting past me." He makes a face and revises. "Okay, I know you _can,_ but I really hope you don't want to beat me up anymore."

A twinge of guilt. Damnit. No, she doesn't. She can't.

"What I meant was don't…" he waves his hand in her general direction, not wanting to say the word. She just looks at him like he's insane, because she doesn't understand what he's talking about.

"Why are you waving at me?"

"Don't… _touch_ yourself," he manages to get out, and even though his skin is really dark, she's pretty sure he just blushed. But she just stares at him for a minute.

"I can't masturbate." It's not a question; it's more a furious statement.

"No, you… you can't. I'm sorry, but no," Hardison tells her. Her eyes flash again, and_ god_ does she want to scream, but she doesn't. What's the point? There might be cameras, but… yeah, she can definitely get away with it. So she just says,

"Go the fuck away now please, Hardison," just trying to show she's still angry, and when he leaves – _not_ closing the door, mind you – she lies back angry in the bed and just stares at the ceiling.

She was in _jail._

And not even the jail where you can get _laid!_ She'd rather be someone's prison bitch then be here. And unfortunately, now that she was wide awake, the urge that didn't get satisfied from last night reared its ugly head again. She shifts beneath the covers uncomfortably while her eyes searched the room for the cameras.

One in each corner of the room. Okay. Well, she can work around that.

Damnit, part of her feels bad for doing this. For fucking up their little rehab within five minutes of realizing she's in it. But the hurt is starting to form quicker now, and she grimaces. She has so much anger, so much rage, especially because of this, and isn't this a healthier way of getting it out then hitting Hardison's face again? She can't keep ruining the pretty.

She feigns a yawn, pretending to go back to sleep. She rolls over on her stomach, making sure that all of her is under the covers and that her hand was underneath her. She tries to bury her face in the pillows, hoping that none of the camera angles would be able to see anything. And then she starts shifting. It's only slight, a little bit at a time, and it's driving her crazy that she can't just stick her hand down her pants and just do what she needs to do. But she has to act like it's just regular falling asleep shifting, and it takes a whole agonizingly long ten minutes until her fingers are pressed up against her clit enough so that she can get herself off without moving very much.

She presses against herself hard, and bites her bottom lip so she can keep from gasping. God, she needed this. Tight little circles, so perfectly formed and so perfectly executed with years of daily practice has her head cloudy within five minutes and she starts to slip with her façade. Her little sighs of contentment that could have been easily mistaken for sleep sighs have now become quiet gasps, and she's lifting her hips up more, sliding her fingers down so she can get them wet before coming back up and trying to finish what she started.

Trying being the operative word.

"Parker!" Hardison yells, coming into the room. Damnit. But it's too late now, she's already been caught and she's already so close that she doesn't care anymore. She doesn't pretend anymore, and she lets out a low moan, rubbing herself faster, trying to get off before Hardison stops her.

But then hands are on her, turning her around. "Parker, stop it!" Hardison yells at her, rolling her on her back to face him and trying to grab her arm that had her hand in her pants. But she pushes him off with her other hand, annoyed that he made her slip from her sweet spot.

"Alec please…" she begs, her fingers finding their destination again. "Please I need it…"

"No, you don't!" he exclaims, and this time he does grab the right arm and pulls her hand away from her. She shrieks in frustration.

"Yes I do!" she yells, and quite purposely smears her wet fingers over his lips. His eyes go wide. "Just let me!"

"Jesus Christ," he gasps out, getting disoriented for a second from the scent and taste of her. Her pupils dilate and darken from his reaction, and suddenly she turns predator, and he can see it. He backs up away from her suddenly.

"Do I taste good?" she asks breathlessly.

"Parker, stop, I mean it," he tries to demand, but his voice is coming off shaky. So much for his control. It almost makes her laugh, but she's more interested in screaming in ecstasy. She throws the covers off of herself and gets up, advancing on him.

"If you really love me than you'll have sex with me," she tells him, her chest heaving from being so turned on and so angry.

But that was so the _wrong_ thing to say. It makes him snap out of it, and now he's _furious._

"What the fuck did you just say to me?"

That makes Parker stop. Oh, this isn't good. The tightening in her chest was back, fighting for the worst pain over her groin. She winces. God, why does everything have to hurt? "Nothing," she manages to get out.

"I can't believe you just fucking said that," he says, so angry with her, but she can't think anymore. God, it was hurting too much. It's been too long since she's gotten off, and she was so close. She grimaces in pain and sits down heavily against the bed.

"Ow," she manages to get out, her eyes closed as she tries to make it stop.

"What?" Hardison asks, and she can hear the worry flood into his voice. "What is it? What's wrong?" How is he not even angry anymore? Why can't she just switch it off like that? It isn't fair.

"Nothing, I'm fine," she gasps out, and grips her own thigh, digging her nails in. She tries to focus on that pain instead.

"You're not _fine,_ tell me what's wrong," Hardison demands. But she doesn't want to, he's just going to…

"You're going to think I'm lying."

"Just _tell me."_

"I need to get off, okay?!" she screams, opening her eyes to look at him. "It _hurts,_ Hardison! It hurts really badly! Damnit!" She winces again, and bites her lower lip hard. God, this wasn't jail, this was hell.

"Shit," Hardison mutters, looking at her. He doesn't seem to know what to do, and she's hating that she has to wait for him to decide. She doesn't even know why she's waiting, why she won't just do something, but she keeps feeling horrible whenever she pisses him off.

"Please help me," Parker begs him in a small voice. She looks up at him, her eyes pleading with him. She can't take this anymore.

"I'm not gonna… I'm not having sex with you," he tells her, serious. But he's still worried.

"I know, just please let me make it stop. Please."

Hardison looks at her for a long time, but it's clear he can't keep watching her be in pain. He nods slowly, and within moments she's tearing off her jeans. He backs away from her, but she doesn't care. Her fingers dive into her heat so quickly it's almost a relief in its self just to be able to touch it. Her digits slide over her clit and down to slip into herself and _god _she hopes he's watching. She knows he isn't though, he's too much… he's too _Hardison_ to watch, but she knows he didn't leave, she would have heard him, so she moans out:

"God… Alec…"

"Don't," he says seriously. "Do what you need to do just don't say my name."

But it turns her on even more, just the fact that he's _there,_ even if he's not watching. She puts on quite a show with her sound effects, and she's making a bet with herself inside of her head on how big his boner is gonna be when she's done. When she does finally fall off the edge, and the pain has finally subsided, she sighs in relief and just lays there, looking up the ceiling.

"You done?" Hardison asks, like he doesn't _know. _She hopes that doesn't mean what she thinks it means. How many women has he ever slept with?

"Yes," she says breathlessly, and sits up. He's in the corner, turned away from her. She peers at him curiously as he turns around, and then a smirk lights up her face as she looks at what that just did for him. "I can take care of that, if you want," she tells him in a low voice.

"Parker, seriously. You… god. I'll take care of it myself. And if you're gonna act like this afterwards, then I'm not gonna let you stop the pain next time," he snaps, and storms out, calling out over his shoulders, "And the camera's are still on, the door and vent have alarms that have _layers_ of disabling alarms, so don't try anything. I'll know."

She doesn't say anything, she already feels bad. She knew she shouldn't have said anything about his erection… not after he helped her. Or let her help herself. But she just couldn't help it – it was automatic. She sighs and puts back on her jeans, wandering out into the living room.

"Sorry," she says, but its soft, and she knows he can't hear her. He already went into the bathroom. She has half a mind to go listen at the door, but knows that's probably a bad idea. She doesn't want to get turned on again, because then the pain will come back and she doesn't know if he'll let her stop it this time. But she knows he needs to do it, especially if he hasn't had that much sexual experience. It'll start hurting for him too, and she doesn't want him to have blue balls, that would just be mean. She sighs and flops down on the couch, turning on the TV.

First hour of sex rehab and she failed miserably.

It actually bothers her. It's surprising that it bothers her, actually. She does hate living like she does, hates looking at herself in the mirror everyday and knowing what she's _done_. God, how many people she's let do _her. _She hates how awful it makes her feel… but she doesn't think she can stop. Without sex the anger and the rage just doesn't go away. It just builds up and builds up and she gets so… _violent._

She finds the remote and flips on the TV, but does a double take when she realizes she's looking at herself on camera. She looks up at the camera in the corner of the room, then back down at the TV. Oh. She presses a button and it switches to the bedroom a moment later. Okay, well this is weird. She figured he'd have it all on his computer. Maybe it's on both.

How the hell does she get regular TV?

Parker starts pressing buttons on the remote, just trying to _fix_ the damn thing, but then her eyes go wide as it switches to the bathroom cam.

Oops.

Oh my god, Hardison was… _big._

Shit, she wasn't supposed to be doing this. She tries to switch the TV, but her heart isn't really in it. She can't help but watch as his hand slides up and down his shaft, just trying to get relief of his own after Parker basically tortured him on purpose. She bites her lower lip and shifts a bit on the couch. He was... he was a very pretty man. More than pretty. Beautiful. His penis was even a bit beautiful and she always thought they were kind of scary looking as a whole species.

Wait, penises aren't a species.

Crap, how did her hand get in her pants again? This isn't go—okay, no, this was _very_ good. She slips her fingers over herself and moans quietly, her eyes never leaving the screen. Her fantasies were running wild through her head, and she never realized how badly she wanted Hardison until just then. And not because of his dick, but because of how she was thinking about it. It wasn't like normal; it wasn't all this rough fuck to get off shit that she always thinks she needs. It was so…

But she couldn't finish her though, because then suddenly the front door opens.

Her hand is out of her pants in a flash, but she can't turn the TV off before Eliot gets a good look at it. "HARDISON!" he screams. "YOU SUCK AT THIS!" He slams the door closed behind him and comes over to the bathroom door and starts _banging_ on it. "STOP WACKIN' YOURSELF OFF AND GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE!"

"What?" Hardison says in a hurry and within moments he's opened the door. "What happened? Where is she?"

"Getting herself off to your cam show!" Eliot growls, "What the hell is wrong with you? Not twenty four hours and you're already giving her masturbation material?!"

"What?" Hardison asks, then his eyes go wide, and he looks over at Parker on the couch… and at the TV. "PARKER!" he screams, like its _her _fault.

"I was just trying to watch TV! It's not _my_ fault your penis showed up all over the screen!"

"You're off duty," Eliot tells him, annoyed.

"What? Like _you_ could do any better. She'll have you bending her over in, uh, I give it five hours," Hardison snaps.

"I'm not going to have sex with her again," Eliot snaps back. "And I sure as hell ain't gonna _wack off_ when there are camera's around!" Parker kind of doubts that; Eliot was kinky.

"Okay, first of all, you have no idea what the hell went on, so fuck you. Second, you can't watch her. I won't let you. This is my house."

"What do you mean you _won't let me?"_ Eliot challenges. "Hardison, this ain't the time for your stupid little possessive crush to rear its ugly head. Parker needs _help."_

"I know that, don't you think I know that?! But you fuck just as many women as _she_ does. I doubt you can say no for very long."

Eliot narrows his eyes at him, glaring. "She might have fucked as many _women_ as I have, but she's also fucked a whole shit load of men too." A beat, and he defends, even though no one asked, "And I haven't done any of _that."_

Whatever. No one cares if he ever got his dick sucked by a man. At least she doesn't care, anyway. Sexuality is all relative. So he doesn't have to sit there and defend that, or make it clear, or whatever.

Parker really doesn't like them sitting there discussing her slutty behavior in front of her. She doesn't like how it sounds. "Can you guys stop arguing?" she asks. She's pretty sure she's getting a headache. But they ignore her.

"I don't trust you with her," Hardison says flatly.

"Well clearly none of us can trust _you_ with her either."

"STOP!" Parker yells, and they both turn to look at her. "You _both _can watch me if you want, just stop arguing. You're making my ears ring." She slaps the side of her head as if to prove a point, and shakes her head. The ringing was dulling now, but they're both looking at her like she's a bit crazy.

Maybe she is. But she needed to stop the ringing. It's like June bugs got in her ear and ran amok while hitting a gong.

"Fine."

"FINE."

And that's how that was for almost a week and a half. Eliot slept over, taking the shifts that Hardison couldn't do when he was asleep. She was good for that whole time though. Well, kind of. She did slip with masturbation multiple times, though Hardison did let her every once in awhile to make the pain stop. But it was only while Eliot was asleep, because they both knew Eliot would yell about it. He wouldn't understand. But she was good, really she was, mostly, for that whole week and a half time.

… Until her vagina overrode her good sense and she tried to take another ride on Eliot's dick.

**TBC…**


	2. Part II

**PART II**

Hardison was fast asleep in the other room, on the couch, and Parker was laying in his bed on her stomach, feet in the air and pout on her face as she tried to watch the TV her designated for _her _use, in the bedroom. Eliot was next to her, watching whatever was on it – she really wasn't sure, he picked it after all – and all she could do was try to focus on things that weren't sex.

The lamp, the lamp shade, the base of it, the desk it was sitting on, that little candle there that, god, almost kind of looks like a giant dildo if you tilt your head on one direction… Jesus. She shakes her head and lets out an annoyed little sound, getting angry again at all of this. Eliot glances in her direction, but doesn't say anything.

It wasn't like she didn't want to stop – she did. It was just hard. All of this was just too damn hard and she couldn't handle it. Why wouldn't they just leave her alone? She wasn't hurting anyone besides herself. They really had no right to hold her here, right? They're just… big fucking assholes. Her anger grew though, suddenly, out of nowhere… and then so did the desire to make it go away.

But fuck it, right? She was already mad, so who _cares?_

Somehow she managed to be straddling Eliot in under five seconds, and his eyes go wide from the intrusion. "Parker, get the hell—"

"Shh," she shushes him with a little smirk, putting her hand over his mouth. She puts her lips next to his ear and tells him in a whisper, "If you are quiet, I'll let you put it _anywhere…"_ She notices him swallow hard, obviously debating that… but not for very long. Suddenly she's pushed off of him, throwing her on the bed hard as he gets up to move away from her.

"Parker, just fuckin' stop it."

"Fag," she snaps, her eyes flashing. She really didn't like that word, but she knew it would piss Eliot off. He's so damn closeted.

"What'd you just say to me?" he asks, angrily.

"I just implied you like boys," Parker clarifies in an even tone, her eyes never leaving his. "You must. You don't want to have sex with me, and you do stare at Nate a lot."

"Don't fucking go there, Parker, I'm warning you…" Eliot says, furious with her. She can almost see the steam coming out of his ears, and it amuses her in a way. It makes her want to taunt him more, knowing she can push him to the edge this way.

"He has a big dick, you know. Don't think he quite knows how to use it, but I think you would like it buried inside of you."

"Go _fuck _yourself, Parker!" Eliot screams, and Parker's annoyed now because there is no way in hell this is gonna go anywhere if he wakes up—

"What the _hell_ is going on?" Hardison demands, yawning as he storms in the bedroom, pissed off that they both woke him up.

"He wants to suck Nate's dick," Parker says without a flicker of expression on her face, now just angry with Eliot because he just ruined the whole plan, so why not make Hardison think he's a flamer for his boss just for the hell of it?

"Parker, you are so fucking lucky you're a woman right now," Eliot says evenly, trying like hell to control his anger. He storms out, yelling at Hardison, "Fuck this, I'm done with the stupid whore." Parker can hear the front door slam as he leaves.

Hardison is looking at her like she just messed up big time. Which, okay, yeah, she did. "What did you _do?"_

"Nothing."

"Parker."

"NOTHING. Leave me alone. I need to masturbate."

"Ha, yeah… no. Not this time. You're obviously not in pain, and you just pissed off Eliot. You get no such reward," Hardison tells her flatly, annoyance and frustration seeping into his words.

Parker shrieks in frustration and throws a pillow at his head before laying down and rolling over so her back is facing him. She sets her jaw and just stares at the wall, folding her arms into herself. Maybe fondling her own breasts a little. Maybe.

"You're acting like a spoiled brat. Sex used to not be everything to you."

"How would _you _know?" Parker snaps.

"Because it used to not interfere with the team. You used to want to steal everything all the time too, used to, I don't know, at least balance it a little. You haven't had to urge to steal in awhile, have you?"

Parker's silent for a little awhile. "…. No," she says finally. She turns around to look at him. "But it's just cause this whole thing happened and I keep getting _mad."_

Hardison stares at her, like she can't be serious. "…You need to have sex when you're _angry?"_ he asks, in disbelief.

"I don't know. Yes. Yeah," she replies, thinking back. Yeah, every time she needed sex it was because she was pissed. That was how this whole thing started, wasn't it? She realized orgasms made her anger go away. She sits up straight in bed at that realization and looks at Hardison. She doesn't say anything for awhile, and he waits. He knows she has something to say. "I'm… angry all the time," she tells him in a soft voice finally, like she didn't know if she could trust him with that information.

Hardison's silent for a moment, just looking at her, like he's not sure where this is going. "Are we… actually going to have a conversation about this? Are you ready for that?"

"I'm still horny. Mad. Horny. Whatever," she debates, confusing herself, crossing her arms in front of her chest in a huff. She's both.

"Okay, let's get you happy then," Hardison tells her, like it's just as easy as _that._ She scoffs at him in disbelief, but he's not put off by it. "What makes you happy?"

"Sex."

"Parker."

"Fine. Stealing."

"I don't know if I should let you out of the house like this," Hardison says, eyeing her. She rolls her eyes.

"Money."

"I'm not giving you my money."

"I like gummy bears," she says sarcastically, though it's not sarcasm. She does like them, she's just annoyed and wants to use that tone. "And rainbows, and Bugs Bunny, and Honey Nut Cheerios, but I don't see how any of _those _are going make me stop being horny. Mad. Hor—Ugh, both."

"You like Monopoly," he adds.

"But it's not gonna—"

"Play a game with me," Hardison requests, getting up to go get it. She sighs in annoyance. She doesn't see how this is going to help. Making rainbow properties doesn't exactly get her off. But if he wants her to have _fun,_ then fine. She knows how to have fun.

"Only if we can put a wager on it."

"We could use real money instead of the fake money," Hardison suggests as he comes back into the room with the board game. "I'll be willing to give up some of my money if I at least have a chance to get some of _yours."_

"No. Actually, yeah, that's fine too, but no. What I mean was that if it doesn't start to work within a half an hour then I win, and I get what I want. But if it does then you win, and you can get what you want."

He eyes her suspiciously. "What do you _want_, exactly?"

"I want you to watch me masturbate," she says simply. He narrows his eyes at her. Well, she wasn't going to ask him to have sex with her, she knew _that_ would never work. But it turned her on to think about that. Being all naughty for him like that.

"Parker, that's not—"

"Well if it doesn't work I'm going to have to masturbate anyway, and you're the one who has this stupid little theory in the first place. So if you don't think it's going to work, than just let me give myself and orgasm while you put away the game." Really, she couldn't see how she could lose.

"Fine," he says slowly. Apparently he thinks his theory is going to work. Sucker. "But if in a half an hour you do end up happy, then we're going to talk about your past."

"What? _Why?"_ she demands. She doesn't like this. Nope, no, not at all. One hundred and fifty six point five percent against _that._

"Because I'm gonna help you by figuring out how this started." He cocks an eyebrow at her, "Hey, it was your idea to have a wager."

She narrows her eyes at him. If he wants to play like that, then fine. Watch her win. "Fine. Let's play."

So they played. And so she lost… badly. She started _winning_ in the game, and the fact that she was getting real money from Hardison (since they did end up switching the money), made her whole face light up, and she was so very obviously giddy that it was hard to hide. She loves money, she really does, and she loves taking other people's even more.

"I win," Hardison tells her softly as he watches her with a little smile on her face.

"No you don't, we're not finished. Besides, I have Boardwalk _and _Park Place, so you aren't going to win. Ever."

"Not what I meant."

Then Parker realizes what he's talking about and she puts down the dice heavily. "…Oh." Well… that was unfortunate. And sucky. And… all those other things that come in a jar labeled "bad."

He looks at her, like he's trying to figure her out. "You're not horny anymore, are you?"

Parker shifts uncomfortably under his gaze. "Um..." No, she wasn't. How the hell did he end up being right about that? That didn't make any sense. He clearly just distracted her with money and tiny little metal pieces. Like that dog. And the boat. They're distracting enough just being themselves. Right?

"You're not," Hardison answers for her, almost triumphantly. "That's interesting."

"I'm not a _frog_," Parker tells him, annoyed. "You can't dissect me."

"I didn't mean it like you were like a science project, Parker," Hardison tells her. "But it is interesting." He pauses, watching her some more. She's not sure if she likes it. "So can we talk now?"

"The game's not over."

"You win; have all my money."

"REALLY!?"

"Yes."

Parker happily grabs all of his money, pulling it towards her with a big smile on her face. As she's counting it with a big grin on her face, he continues to watch her, but she barely notices anymore. "When was the first time you had sex when you were mad?" he asks her.

"It wasn't sex," she answers, automatically. Then she stops what she's doing because she just said that way too quickly. Damn money and it's distraction purposes. She looks up at him.

"Masturbation, then."

Parker is quiet for awhile, but she nods. She didn't want to have this conversation, but he _did _win. She would expect him to hold up his end of the bargain if she had won. "…My first time," she adds quietly. If she was going to do this, then she might as well do it right.

"How old were you? You must have been pretty youn—"

"Nineteen," she interrupts. He looks at her oddly. She knew he was going to do that. She looks back down at the money and starts counting it again, just not wanting to see him look at her. She already felt like a freak already, she didn't need that.

"The first time you masturbated was when you were nineteen?"

"Yes."

"That's…"

"Weird, I know."

"Not what I was going to say," Hardison tells her, but she doesn't look up at him. She tries to immerse herself in numbers. Seven hundred, eight hundred… fifty, nine hundred fifty…

"Interesting, then," she says, knowing that's what he was going to say it wasn't weird.

"You know me too well."

She looks up at him, and he smirks a little. But she just narrows her eyes. "Stop saying 'interesting'. You sound like my therapist." He didn't have the weird glasses like she did though. They looked like turtles on her face. Sea turtles with sea monkey patterns on it's shell.

"You have a therapist?" he asks, surprised.

"Not now, I did when I was twelve."

"Why?"

She makes a point to _not _answer that question. She continues counting, and she knows he's waiting for an answer, but she doesn't give him one. Instead she diverts the conversation. "Do you think the frog spirits know that all these kids everywhere poke at them in class?"

"Parker, why were you in therapy as a child?" Hardison presses, ignoring her diversion.

"I have a sex problem," she snaps, annoyed now that he didn't just leave it alone. She didn't want to talk about it, but she also knew avoiding it was going to make him say she wasn't cooperating with the bargain. It frustrates her. "Think about it."

It doesn't take him long to figure it out. "Oh," he says quietly. She waits for it to come; all the pity, all the "oh my god, I'm so sorry that happened to you", but it didn't come. She looks up at him, and his lips are pursed together. Maybe he knows she doesn't want pity. Pity makes her feel like she's nothing. But then again, she already did feel like nothing now. So, whatever.

"Is that how you got the scars?" he asks after a minute.

Parker's eyes go wide. No one's ever asked her about those. No one has ever dared. Everyone just conveniently tries to avoid them… not look at them. "I thought you never looked," she says, like he did something wrong. He shouldn't have seen the scars unless he's seen her vagina. Or at least, the top of it.

"I don't look, but that doesn't mean I haven't _seen,"_ Hardison corrects. He looks at her seriously. "Did… he, or she… do that to you?" he asks, carefully. He knows this subject is a sensitive one.

Parker looks down, back at her money, shuffling through it again to distract herself. "No."

"Then how did they get there?"

"I don't like this therapy session anymore," Parker decides, looking back up at him, glaring. She has the urge to run away again, but for some reason she stays where she is. Damn feet, they weren't working properly.

"No one likes therapy," Hardison tells her. "But you agreed to it."

Parker scowls, annoyed. She looks down at her money again. There's silence for a long time before she says in a soft voice, "I really don't want to talk about it… Please don't make me."

"You did them yourself, didn't you?"

Parker doesn't answer. Suddenly she's starting to feel like she's going to cry, and she really doesn't like that feeling. She shifts a little bit and bites her bottom lip. Why won't he just drop it?

"Parker… I get it, okay? I… I do."

"You don't get it," she says, looking up at him, angry that he would assume that. "You could never get it."

"You wanted to destroy that part of you that made all of this start in the first place. Make it undesirable. No, I don't get what it felt like, but I do get _why."_

Parker's bottom lip noticeably trembles, and she bites hard on it to get it to stop. Her eyes flash and she knows they're misting over. "It's _ugly_ now," she says softly. She doesn't like it. She did it for that purpose, he was right about that. But now she regretted it. All the scars… all over it. It was such a pretty pattern once; to her. Something that was pretty to her but ugly to the rest of the world and now she's upset because it's become ugly for her too.

"No, trust me, it's not," Hardison tells her, trying to show honesty in his words. "It's just… unique now."

Parker rolls her eyes angrily. "Whatever." Liar.

"I have better things to do with my time than lie to you," Hardison tells her, but she still doesn't believe him. She's seen it, she's seen it every day for all of her life. She knows what it looks like, and she knows it's ugly.

She hates him for lying.

"Hey, _hey,"_ he says, eyeing her carefully. "Don't start to get mad… come on. Calm down. We're just talking. Okay? Just talking. We'll move on from the scars."

"Why are you so _nice_ to me?" Parker demands, like it's a horrible thing that he's doing to her. Like he shouldn't be doing it. It's so very wrong.

He gives her a little smile. "You know why."

"You're stupid for loving me," she tells him, with angry tears in her eyes. She sets her jaw and wipes them with the back of her hand and pushes the money away from her. Her happiness was gone. She didn't deserve any of this and she hated herself – and him – even more for that.

Why wouldn't they just leave her be and let her commit her little sexual suicide?

"Maybe," he says. "But that doesn't make it go away."

"You're stupid." He just is.

"You already said that."

"Really, _really_ stupid," she stresses, just needing to make him _get_ it, even though he doesn't seem to. What is wrong with him? Why can't he just _see_ that? She's not the kind of girl people fall in love with. They're beautiful and perfect and she's just NOT.

"Do you want to know why I…?" he starts to ask, but he's interrupted.

"No, I already know why. It's because you're stupid," she tells him firmly. She sniffs, trying to wipe away the last of her tears, or maybe prevent more from coming in. She doesn't like this emotion thing she has going on at the moment. There should be a switch to turn it off.

"Well, even though I might be stupid, I love you because you're really smart," he starts. He's still watching her though, not knowing if he should do this. But she doesn't say anything, so he continues. "Beautiful; freaking stunning. You're like what beauty aspires to be."

"Stop."

"Okay."

There's a long pause, and she just looks at him. That funny feeling is back in her chest, but it's not a tight one this time. It's more of a swelling; but a good swelling. But when he stopped talking it was starting to go away so she says softly, "Nevermind. You can go on."

Hardison smiles a little and says, "You're amazingly talented. Sometimes I can't believe all the stuff you come up with. How to make your rigs better than even how they are on the market. And I have no idea how you got so crazy limber, but that's pretty damn cool. But outside of all that… you're just… god, you have no idea how amazing you are, do you? Your way of thinking is so bizarre but so _spot on_ in ways most of us fail to see, and I'm glad that sometimes I can. And yes, you might be so angry, and so sad, but when you're happy, it's like… it's like nothing can bring you down. When the joy lights up your face you are just _so _perfect, and you just—"

Parker doesn't let him finish though. She's crying now. She has no idea why, she doesn't know what this feeling is really, but she's crying, and all she wants to do is kiss him. Maybe kiss him because he's being so nice, or kiss him because she wishes maybe she could see herself how he does. Kiss him because she feels a little happy again because of him, or maybe just kiss him because that's what she's seen in movies. But whatever it was because of… she kisses him.

… But he pushes her off of him. Gently, but he does.

"Why won't you let me kiss you?" she asks, wiping the tears away from her eyes. That hurt. That felt like a stab in the gut and she doesn't understand why it hurt that bad, but it did. All she wanted to do was… she doesn't know. Maybe make him feel happy a little, too. So why does he have to ruin the happy? Isn't that what he wanted? Her being _happy?_

"I'm not going to have sex with you."

"That's not why I—" Parker starts, but then the hurt inside… it just turns to anger. Maybe it was because of rejection, or because he just didn't understand why she wanted to, even though she knew he had no reason to think otherwise with the way she's been acting recently. But it doesn't stop her from getting mad. She shoves him away from her and gets up, setting her jaw hard so she doesn't cry again. "Asshole."

"Parker…"

"Just leave me alone!"

"Parker, wait!" Hardison calls out after her, getting up and following her into the living room. But she whirls around to face him, anger written all over her face.

"You're a LIAR!" she screams at him. "And I hate you for it! You don't want me happy; you just want me miserable so you can play nurse to me for longer!"

"_What?!"_

"All I wanted was to be happy for one single, stupid moment and you went and… and you_ screwed it all up! _You don't love me, you're just trying to drive me INSANE so that when I finally break and fuck the hell out of you it'll be the best, craziest, most fucked up wildest _stupidest _fucking sex you've ever had in your_ life!" _she screams at him, her chest heaving, her eyes flashing. That's got to be his big secret master plan, right?! He's planning on driving her INSANE!

"Parker, calm down! No! What? …What are you _talking_ ab—?"

"You! You and your stupid _penis!_ Well fine, here, LOOK, you drove me fucking insane so _here_ – HAVE ME!" she screams, and starts to take her shirt off. His eyes go wide. "You want me, have me! I'm all yours! Do whatever you want to me _because everyone else sure as fuck has!"_

"Parker! No, that's not what this is! Parker, stop, please. Stop taking off your clothes!"

"Fuck you!" she yells, and her hands grasp her pants and she pulls them down along with her underwear and kicks them at him. He catches them in reaction and then sets them down on the floor. "This is what you love!" she shrieks. "THIS! All of this! So here, just _take it!" _She grabs his hand and pulls him forward to make him touch her, but he grabs his hand back and pulls it away quickly. He grabs her shoulders.

"Parker, STOP!" he yells, desperate, looking in her eyes. "I love you because of _you,_ not because of your body, and I am NOT going to take you, okay? So just STOP! You're only doing this because you're pissed off! Remember?! This is what happens!"

"Just do it!" she shrieks, ignoring his claims that this is because of her anger. Her cheeks are wet, and she realizes she's crying again. Damnit, why doesn't that ever STOP?! "Everyone else does it and you claim you love me and yet you can't even bear to _look _at me like this! IT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE!" She grabs at him then, starting to tear off his clothes, but she's frantic and upset, and she's fumbling. He grabs her hands easily, holding them off of him.

"Parker! Parker, please calm down!"

"NO!" she yells, furious. But then suddenly she just breaks; falls apart like pieces of an old building. "I just wanted you to kiss me…" she chokes back with a sob, the tears falling from her eyes. She's shaking; so upset. "I just wanted you to make me feel good. I just wanted you to—"

But suddenly she's cut off, because his lips find hers, stopping her mid sentence. She sobs a little into his mouth, but kisses him back, wrapping her arms around his neck. He holds her close to her; kissing her like no one ever has in her entire life. It's like her anger evaporated; just poof, gone. She's happy but she's still upset, she's crazy but she's getting sane, and it's just… okay it deserves the word "wow."

So that's what she says when they break. "….Wow." It's soft, and she's not even sure if he heard it.

Hardison takes a breath, seeming to be on the 'wow' boat as well. "Uh…" he starts, trying to get himself back together. "Are you… you okay now?"

"Mhmm," she says with a little nod, and an airy tone that may or may not suggest a bit of disorientation. "Fantastic," she says.

…And then she falls over.

Hardison's eyes go wide to grab her, but she falls into the chair. She knew it was there, she wasn't _collapsing _or anything. They weren't in the movies, and kisses don't actually make people faint… do they? Hm. She looks up at him with this little smile on her face.

She looks up at him, this little smile of contentment. Then it turns curious as she asks, "Are you going to ask me out on a date now?" Hardison pauses for a very long time, and she makes a face because she doesn't like the hesitation. "You love me; doesn't that mean we should date?" Isn't that how that worked? She thinks she might like the try that.

"Don't… yell, or anything. Really Parker, please, but…" he starts, and she sits up straighter. Well, she knows she's not going to like this. "I don't… think you're ready to date."

She blinks. "But I realized I like you. Isn't that ready? I want you to be my boyfriend." And she does, she realized that now. Hardison was the only thing in her life that made her smile, and he was fun, even though sometimes he was an asshole, but he's only an asshole cause he's trying to help. She might not like it, but he likes her, and… aren't they supposed to get a pony and ride off into the sunset now?

What the hell.

Hardison smiles at that, but she doesn't smile back. There is no smiling when there is no dating involved. "You do?" he asks, like he can't believe that.

"YES. So can you be?"

He sighs a little and he comes over to sit on the arm of the chair. She looks up at him; eyes wide as she waits for his answer. But he just runs his fingers through her hair and says, "…I'm sorry, Parker. But you… with all of this? You're not ready for that."

She glares at him, and moves her head away from his touch. "Who says? You? Why do _you _get to decide that?"

"Parker, please don't get angry with me…"

"Why can't you just make me _happy?_ It'll make me happy, being with you, won't it? I don't understand, Alec! You want me to be happy but you're condemning me to be miserable." It really wasn't fair. She found another way to make her anger disappear, to make her heart swell and make her _smile_ and now he's telling her no? It felt good, being with him. So they should be together. Two plus two and all of that. Or, actually that'd be one plus one, unless she was counting their arms.

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm just… scared of how it'll turn out if we start this now—"

"_Why?"_

"—And I can't be the only thing that makes you happy. You need to… you need to learn that being intimate with someone isn't the only way to make your problems go away," he says, looking down at her. Her lips turn down into a frown, and she folds her arms into herself.

"We don't have to be… intimate," she says finally, after a long stretch of silence. She really didn't like those words. He did have a very pretty penis. She would very much like to touch it a little. Or a lot.

"I don't think you can do that."

"I can do that!" she protests. Okay, she doesn't know if she can do that but she can _try._ She can try really, really hard! She wants to try!

He looks skeptical, but seems to be thinking about that. "If_… If,"_ he stresses, "We… try this. You have to respect my boundaries. Which, I guess, are the boundaries I'm setting up for you."

Parker sits up straighter, determined. "I can do that."

"Like no grabbing my dick. Ever. Even though my clothes. No getting spontaneously naked. Don't masturbate where I can see or hear you, and don't listen to me. No manipulating me. No sexual innuendoes. And _you can't have sex with anyone else."_

Jeez. That was a lot of rules. She frowns.

"See?" he says, noticing her look. She narrows her eyes.

"No, I can do that," she says, still determined. She can do this, right? Hopefully. "But I have one condition."

"What?"

"We get to kiss."

"That's fine. Just don't go overboard," he says, eyeing her like he means that. She holds up three fingers, and Hardison looks at her funny. Oh, no wait, it's two fingers, right? She saw Eliot do it once. She puts one down and nods again, and he smirks.

When she puts down her hand she asks, "How_ long_ until we can have sex?"

Hardison shrugs.

Parker narrows her eyes. "I don't like that. You told me a month here, and that would mean we have two and half weeks left. Does that mean it's going to be _longer?"_

"I don't know what that means. It depends on how you do, and if it's the right moment, and—"

"The right moment?" she makes a face. "What does that mean? Can't sex be during any moment?"

Hardison smiles at her like she's being amusing, even though she doesn't think she is. She's really not a very funny person. She never got that gene. He leans down and kisses her on the forehead and whispers, "Parker, the first time I have sex with you it's not going to be during any random moment. It'll be special."

"Special how?" she asks, looking up at him.

"You'll see."

"Oh, well that's not fair. Now you're just taunting me."

"Teasing," he corrects with a little laugh. He reaches down and takes her hand, interlacing their fingers together. It makes Parker smile a little bit as she looked at them.

"I think I like this," she states with a nod.

"I'm glad," he says, and he leans down to give her a little kiss on the lips. It makes the butterflies in her tummy flutter. "Now… you have to call Eliot and apologize."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"He called me a _whore."_

"I know, and he's a fucking asshole for that. But god knows whatever you called him to get him that pissed off at you. Just… suck it up. Call him. If you apologize, he'll apologize to you." He pauses, and then he thinks of something he thinks is a brilliant idea but Parker thinks just _sucks. "_Actually, you should call Nate and Sophie too. Apologize for seducing them to feed your addiction. It'll be like an exercise."

"Exercise is when you're working out. This just sucks. I don't want to."

"Tough," Hardison says, and gets up to grab her cell. He comes back, tossing it to her, and she catches it. "You need to learn that actions have consequences."

She makes a face of annoyance, looking down at her phone. He gives her a little encouraging smile. "I'll give you some privacy, you can have the bedroom."

Parker narrows her eyes, but stands up, walking into the bedroom. She pauses when she gets to the threshold, looking back at him. "Er, Parker?"

"What?"

"Please put your clothes back on now," he says, and then she realizes that he's struggling to not look at her. She sighs and grabs her clothes off the floor before walking into the bedroom and flopping down on the bed. She doesn't want to do this.

She calls Nate first after she gets dressed. She knew he would be the easiest.

"Hardison told me I need to say sorry for having sex with you. So, sorry."

"I can barely remember it. So, it's fine."

"That's it? Are we done now?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

She knew Nate never wanted to talk about it. He can never talk about anything. So she hangs up and smiles. That was easier than she was expecting, even though she did think it would be pretty easy. Next was Sophie, and she knew it wouldn't be_ that_ easy.

She can feel her heart speed up out of nervousness as she dials. When Sophie answers, "Hello?" Parker is quiet for a minute. "Hello?" Sophie asks again. "Parker, what's wrong?"

Right. Damnit. Caller ID. She sighs, fidgeting a little. "Nothing. Everything. I don't know. I need to say sorry for having sex with you."

There's a long silence on the other end of the line.

"…What do you mean, you _need _to? Where are you?" she asks.

"Hardison's. I'm in sex-detox."

There's another long pause. "How… how long has this been going on? Why hasn't anyone told me?"

"A week and a half. They made me do it since I had sex with all of them. Well, except Hardison. He keeps saying no. It's really annoying. And Nate didn't want you involved once he found out I had sex with you too. He was mad, I think," she tells her, fiddling with a loose thread on the comforter. She bites her bottom lip a little.

"Oh, for the love of—! Damnit, Nate should have—" she can't seem to finish her sentence though, and sighs, annoyed. Parker just sits there silently. There's a pause, and Sophie seems to say more to herself in disbelief than Parker, "_Everyone?"_ Parker doesn't say anything, and Sophie switches to, "How are you doing?" Sophie asks softly, after taking a breath. Parker shrugs, then realizes Sophie can't see that over the phone.

"I don't know. Fine."

"Fine?" she asks skeptically.

"No," Parker admits. "It's really, really hard. I don't like it very much. It's not very fun."

"It's not supposed to be fun," Sophie tells her honestly, and Parker scrunches up her face. "But you… you're doing better?"

"Yeah. I haven't had sex in _forever."_

"A week and a half is forever?"

"Longer than forever. When are you coming back?" Parker changes the subject quickly.

"I… I don't know. Not for awhile. Unless you… do you need me there?"

"Nate will yell at me if I say yes, I think."

"Nate can sod off. Do you need me there, Parker?"

Parker fidgets a little. "I don't know… I guess not specifically. Hardison's been taking care of me. He's my boyfriend now, you know."

"What? Really? When did that happen?"

"Like a half an hour ago. But he says we can't have any sex. I think that's weird."

"You're in sex-detox, Parker. That's not weird," Sophie tells her, but Parker can hear her smile on the other end of the line. "I'm glad you two are finally together though. Are you happy?"

"Yes," Parker says, and smiles a little herself. She looks down at the comforter again though and fidgets again. "Sophie?" she asks softly. "Are you mad about the sex?"

"Between us?" she asks, and Parker mumbles yes. "No, I'm not mad. It was… I don't know, I never expected that to happen. And then I thought it was all my fault, like I was the one messing with you because of my own confusion, and… I don't bloody know. But it was… I just don't regret it, okay? You made me realize some things."

"I did?" Parker asks, confused. "Like what?"

"Well, that I'm very much into women, for one."

Parker's eyes go wide. "Sophie, did you turn into a _lesbian?"_ She says it in almost awe. She tried to be a full lesbian once, but it didn't really work.

Sophie laughs a little on the other end of the line. "No, not entirely. No. I'm just open to both options now, is all."

"So I did a good thing for you?"

"In a way, yes. But Parker, that doesn't mean that you did a good thing for everyone. You need to know that. I'm sure you have had no idea how many people you've slept with; if they were in a loving relationship, even married, with kids. You could have broken up homes. You could have broken _people._ You need to realize that that's a possibility, here."

Parker never thought about that. She doesn't like it, it makes her feel horrible. Her lips turn down in a frown as she tries to remember what she knew about the people she slept with. Not much. Sophie could be right, and she kind of hated that. "Oh," she says softly.

"Look, Parker, I have to go now. You're… you're going to be okay, yeah?" she asks, obviously still a bit worried about her.

Parker tries to smile a little, but she was still feeling awful from the revelation that she probably ruined homes just like her mother did. Her mother used to get beat up all the time from angry wives. Not that she _cares _though. Her mother was worthless as hell, letting her boyfriend do what he did to her. She told him he _could._ She's glad she's six feet under now. You don't do that to your child. "Yeah…" she says, softly. But she's so very not okay right now.

She was turning into her mother. What if she has a child and does…? No, she wouldn't do that. She can't do that. She's not that fucking sick. But maybe her mother wasn't that sick at first, either.

"You can call me anytime, you know that."

"I know."

After she hangs up with Sophie, she just starts to _cry._ Long, hard, loud. Hardison comes rushing in, wrapping her in a hug. "What's wrong? What happened?" he asks, but she can't say anything for awhile; she's crying too hard. She used to never cry… now it seems like she's doing it all the time.

"I'm… turning… into… my… _mother…."_ she manages to gasp out between sobs.

"What?" he asks, cradling her close to her. He strokes her hair, trying to get her to calm down. "Why do you think that?"

"She was a _whore!"_ Parker screams, still sobbing. "She had sex with everyone and then she'd get beat up all the time for it and then she just… she just… she…" but she couldn't finish, she's still crying too hard.

"Hey, hey, breathe. Come on… shhh…"

"She let her boyfriend rape me and what if… _what if I do that?!"_ Parker cries, distraught. What if she became that? What if she has a child and decides to ruin it's life because her's was ruined? What if she destroys someone else?!

"Hey, HEY," Hardison says seriously, and takes her face between her hands and makes her look at him. "You would_ never_ do that, Parker. I mean that. I know you, and you would _never_ let that happen to your own child. You aren't like her."

He's right, but only because she's too damn scared to ever have a child because of that. She's already had three abortions in her life. She can't have a kid; she'll kill it.

"Your mother was worthless," he tells her, angry. God, he was furious. "She didn't deserve to take care of such an amazing person. She had no right to destroy you like that… _fuck._ She _let _him?!" he cries out. He looks like he needs to hit something.

"She… she told me after that…" she sniffs, wiping her tears away. "She told me that she was trying to help me become a woman. That she was going to show me… how…"

Hardison's eyes go wide, and Parker swears she sees flames. He gets up suddenly, and his fist connects with the wall hard. Her eyes go wide. "FUCK!" he yells, turning back around to face her. "Where is this cunt?!" Wow, she never thought she'd hear him use that word.

"Dead," Parker says softly. "He beat her up so bad one night she just… died."

"GOOD."

Parker doesn't say anything, and Hardison shakes off his hand, his jaw set. "…And where is _he?"_

"Prison."

"Fuck," he swears again, and he comes back over to her, taking her hands in hers. "Parker, please believe me on this. You are nothing like her, okay? You would never, ever do that. And fuck, you didn't deserve a single thing that happened to you. None of that is you fault. They were just… fucking sick _bastards."_

Parker stays silent, just quietly sniffing as she tries to make her tears die down. He looks at her sadly, wiping a tear away from her eye. "I'm so sorry," he says softly.

She just shrugs lightly. "Doesn't matter…"

"It does matter."

She sniffs again, leaning her head against his shoulder. "I don't wanna call Eliot today… can I do it tomorrow?"

"Yeah," he says softly, kissing the top of her head and holding her as closed as he can to himself. "Yeah, tomorrow…"

It was kind of… different, being with Hardison. But also so much the same. Nothing really changed besides now that they were touching each other a whole lot more. Not in the naughty way, of course. But he would always be holding her hand or stroking her hair or just being… lovely. Lovely's a nice word for that. And they slept together now, in the same bed. Parker slept really good that night, she felt safe for the first time in a long time with his arms around her. She laid her head against his chest, listening to his heart beat, and she'd just smile before she drifted off to sleep.

Apologizing to Eliot… sucked. There was screaming. Lots of it. Finally Hardison brought Parker over his house, since they kept hanging up on each other, and dictated the forgiveness. It was like being in therapy with Eliot. It was weird. But it did work, and finally they both grumbled real apologies and even hugged a little bit (though that was only because Hardison made them).

Hardison took her on a real date two days later. When he asked her out, she may or may not have jumped on him and squeed like a little girl. It made her happy though, she had never been on a real date. He brought her to see a movie, and then they went to dinner. It was so_ normal_ that it made her ecstatic. Nothing in her life was ever normal, and yeah, she did crave some normalcy. At least after everything that happened. Then afterwards he held her hand and they walked through the park. He pushed her on the swing, and she loved how he'd slow her down when he was holding her up in the air and just …. _kiss_ her.

It was all so fucking perfect that of course something has to go wrong. Of course_ she_ has to fuck it up.

**TBC…**


	3. Part III

**PART III**

She lasted a whole week and a half with just masturbating until finally she felt like she was going _insane._ It had been, what? Almost three weeks now since she had sex. It was driving her crazy. She would look at Hardison and all she could think about was running her tongue over his abs. She wanted to touch him so bad, have him touch _her._ And she's pretty sure he could tell something was going on with her, because he kept asking if she was okay.

"Fine," she'd lie.

But she wasn't fine. All she could think about was having Hardison buried deep inside of her and taking what belonged to him. And she did now; belong to him. She was all his. And she wanted to give all of herself to him. And it was _driving her crazy._

She couldn't take it anymore.

They were sleeping. Well, trying to sleep. Okay, well, _he _was sleeping. She was too horny to think, let alone sleep. She was watching him, breathing lightly, contently, as he slept, and she gets an idea.

…Would it be wrong to just… _look?_

Deciding that's not too bad, she carefully slides the covers off of him, being careful not to wake him. He was in his boxers, and she bites her lower lip as she gets excited about what she's about to do. Part of her knows it's wrong, but she just… she just can't help herself. He was just _there._

She carefully, _carefully_ slides his boxers down. He mumbles something in his sleep and she freezes, but he doesn't wake up. She relaxes, and then gets a dirty little smirk on her face. God… _look_ at him. He was fucking… just… _god._

Her breathing starts to pick up as she slides her hand in her panties, finding herself completely soaked. She moans softly, just staring at him like he was some kind of great porn video. But as she continues to pleasure herself while looking at him, the urge to touch him becomes so uncontrollable that she can't stop it.

She sits up, looking down at him, making sure he's still fast asleep. When she finds that he is, her fingers start to trail lightly over his shaft. Hardison mumbles again in his sleep, shifting a little bit. But he doesn't wake up, so she gets bolder, wrapping her hand around it. She wanted to get him hard. She's jerking him off, and Hardison's making little sounds in his sleep. He's probably thinking he's dreaming. It makes her smile. Well, if he's gonna dream about it, she might as well make it good.

Unfortunately, when her mouth wraps around him… it wakes him up.

"Wha—?" he mumbles incoherently, confused and disoriented. Then he seems to realize what's going on, because he pushes Parker off of him… hard. "What are you _doing?!"_

"I'm sorry!" she says automatically, the guilt ripping through her so fast it almost feels like it's destroying her. The way he's looking at her… oh god, she doesn't like that.

He looks like he's almost scared of her.

"You… you fucking… oh my god," he says, like he couldn't _believe _that she would do something like that. He pulls his boxers back up and gets off the bed, backing away from her.

"I'm sorry!" Parker says again. "I just couldn't take it! I couldn't stop myself!"

"Parker…. You just fucking… _molested _me! Do you _realize _that?!"

"What?" she asks, confused, hurt, and just… defensive. "How can I molest you? You're my boyfriend! You're supposed to_ like_ it!"

"I have to get away from you," he says, though it sounds like it's more to himself than to her. He starts to walk away.

"Alec!"

"No, Parker!" he yells, turning to face her. "You just crossed the line. You don't play with someone's genitals when they're _sleeping!_ That's called molestation!"

"But I didn't—" She _couldn't…_

"You did!" Hardison yells at her, and she feels like she's crumbling inside. What _was _she? She couldn't be… she couldn't be one of those people. She wasn't!

"No!" she yells, desperate for him to tell her that he's lying to her. She can't handle this, not right now.

"I'm not sleeping with you tonight," he tells her, furious. "Stay in here. Don't do anything _stupid."_ And then he leaves, slamming the door behind him.

Parker just… breaks.

She was exactly like her mother. She might not have let someone molest her child but _she _molested someone. What does that say about her? What does that _make_ her? Parker screams, rage and fury directed at herself and she just wants to… _tear herself apart._

She was disgusting! She was filthy and dirty and just so fucking _sick!_ She was NOTHING! Such a dirty fucking whore who took whatever she wanted and just hurt _everyone!_

She screams again, and locks the door before she punches the mirror. It shatters, slicing open her hand. She can hear the bangs on the door as Hardison tries to get back in, but he can't.

"Parker, what are you doing? OPEN THE DOOR!"

Parker chokes back a sob and grabs a piece of glass. Squeezing her hand around it, she watches the blood pour from the wounds and drip down her arm. She can hear Hardison trying to kick the door in. She just cries, and she doesn't even realize her hand had moved until she feels a sting, and she realized she just gashed open her forearm.

There's another kick, and a splintering sound. But Parker can barely hear it, she's just watching the blood continue to flow out of her. It was so beautiful, in this sick, disgusting way. It's how she should look… all covered in blood. It's what she was. A monster.

Another splinter and a crash and then suddenly Hardison's frantic, screaming at the sight of her. "Parker! Fuck, stop it!" He grabs the piece of glass out of her hand, cutting himself in the process. There's too much blood. He's hyperventilating, scared to death, but he picks her up. She just felt so numb, so… nothing. She didn't care anymore. She barely noticed as he threw her in the car and took her to the hospital.

She doesn't know when she passed out.

When she woke though, she could hear the beeping noise on the heart monitor, and could see Hardison, Nate, Eliot, and... _Sophie?_ They were talking to the doctor, each looking more worried than the last. What had happened? Ow, her arm hurts. Ow, shit, so do her hands. She looks down… she was bandaged up. A lot.

"Parker," she hears Sophie say softly as she realizes she's awake. Everyone else turns to look at her. She just blinks, staring at all of them. What happened?

"I feel… funny," she manages to get out. She does. She feels really weak. She must have lost a lot of blood.

"You almost fuckin' killed yourself," Eliot says, anger and hurt coloring his voice. He's looking like he's almost on the verge of tears… but Eliot doesn't cry. Right?

"What?"

"I'll give you a few minutes alone," the doctor says softly, but he's looking at Parker like she's some sort of… maybe a fuck up? What did she _do?_

"What happened?" Parker asks. Her head hurts. God, headache. She doesn't like the lights in this place. They danced in front of her eyes and poked them with hot branding irons. Or something. Ow.

"You sliced yourself open pretty badly," Nate tells her, and his eyes fall to rest on her bandages. She looks down at them too, confused. Then stuff starts coming back to her… but slowly. Confusing. Almost like it was a dream. Pieces were missing. Big chunks, small chunks… it was fuzzy.

"Why did you try to kill yourself?" Sophie asks, and Parker just now realizes she's crying. Oh no, she didn't want to make her do that.

"I… I didn't. I don't think. No. I was just… I was mad… I didn't want to die," Parker tells her as she tries to remember. She's pretty sure she didn't want to die. Just… destroy. Destroying felt… it felt nice. It made her happy almost.

Though right now, it doesn't seem very worth it.

"Great, she gets angry and she needs to have sex. We take away sex and she needs to slice herself open. This isn't working," Eliot says, frustrated.

"Eliot, shut up," Hardison says, his eyes narrowing. He's pissed that Eliot isn't being positive. They're both visibly upset though, and as men, the only way they seem to be able to handle it is with anger. "You don't know what happened."

"I don't know because you don't _tell _us! How are we supposed to help if you keep everything a secret?!"

"It's not my business to _tell!"_

"Oh, just like it wasn't your business to tell us that you two are now _dating?! _That's probably the stupidest fucking most selfish decision you've ever made. Parker can't_ date_ right now! LOOK AT HER!"

Eliot was right. Hardison was right in the first place. Why didn't she listen? She couldn't date. Look what she did…

"Both of you, SHUT UP!" Nate yells. They both fall silent. "You aren't helping."

Sophie's still crying, and she buries her face in Nate's chest. It makes Parker want to cry. She doesn't want her to do that! This is bad. Look what she's doing! "Sophie, I wasn't trying to die," she tries, but Sophie just keeps crying.

Other patients were starting to stare. Parker definitely wants to leave now. She doesn't like being looked at like some sort of midget on rollerblades juggling forks.

"Can we go home now?" she asks in a small voice.

Nate just sighs. "Soon. But you're not going back over Hardison's. You're going over my house."

"Why?"

"Because every single fucking one of us is going to watch you now. You're not… you're not safe."

"I'm fine. I won't do it again," Parker tells him, but every single one of them looks at her like they don't believe her. She frowns.

Being watched twenty-four seven by four different people was weird. She couldn't even go to the _bathroom _alone anymore. Though Sophie was the one that got that duty, everyone else felt too weird being in the room when she had to use the toilet, and they all nominated Sophie since 'girls always go to the bathroom in pairs anyway.' Sophie mumbled something about men being bloody fucking stupid, but relented.

Three days after that happened, she was taking a shower, Sophie sitting on the toilet seat as she waited for her to finish. The curtain was like a foggy clear, and she could keep seeing Sophie glance over at her silhouette every now and then. She was trying to get better, really she was. Now, anyway. But this wasn't easy for Sophie, especially since she seems to be going through realizing she likes women, and Parker could see the window of opportunity.

So she tries to make the temptation go away. That was the biggest step she's ever taken, and no matter what happens… she is proud of herself for that.

"Sophie, you should go get someone else to watch me," she tells her. She was getting turned on by Sophie's fleeting glances, knowing she's looking at her. Knowing she's_ thinking_ about her naked. If Sophie continued to stay here… well…

"What? Why?"

"You're making me horny."

"I'm sitting on the bloody toilet. How can I be doing _that?"_ she asks incredulously.

"You keep looking at me through the curtain. You're thinking about me naked," Parker tells her, and is fighting her own will so she wouldn't start touching herself, just listening to Sophie's voice. She did love her accent, it was sexy.

"Parker, I can control my own thoughts," Sophie defends.

"Sophie, I swear to god, if you don't get someone else, I am going to rip off your clothes and fuck the hell out of you, and Hardison will be_ so_ mad at me. I'm not allowed to cheat."

Sophie blinks, standing up. She's a bit shocked by how blunt Parker was with that. She stutters an acceptance and leaves quickly. Parker bites on her lower lip softly and slides her fingers over her clit. God, this wasn't fair. She can never seem to have total control over this. At least she got Sophie out of the room. She moans, leaning her head against the cold tile. Fuck, this felt good.

But then the door opens. She doesn't care, she's too into it now.

"No! No way!" she hears Nate yell. "She's masturbating! Oh _god…"_ he says it like he's afraid of it.

"THEN STOP HER!" someone yells, Parker can't tell who. Probably Eliot or Sophie.

"You do it! I'm not gonna… just, no!" Nate yells, and she can hear him leave, but she doesn't care. She moans again, panting a little as she gets herself off. There's more arguing, and then suddenly she hears the door open and then close behind whoever just came in.

"Just finish," she hears Hardison tells her softly, but it's almost like defeat. "I know you need to."

"God," she pants out, relief washing through her as she realizes no one's going to stop her. "Mmfpph… _fuck…_ Alec, I'm sorry…" she manages to get out, before her eyes close tightly shut and she grits her teeth, trying not to scream as she cums so hard she can feel it squirt down her legs. She lets out a breath and leans heavily against the wall. Shit.

The only thing that can be heard for a long time is the sound the water from the shower head beating against the porcelain of the tub. She bites her lower lip, worried about what he's going to say. "I'm sorry," she says again.

"I'm proud of you for telling Sophie to leave when you knew you couldn't handle it," Hardison starts, softly. "But…" God, she doesn't like buts. He sighs, and switches to, "I love you, Parker. But I don't know if I can…"

She doesn't let him finish. She whips open the shower curtain, looking at him. She was scared. "Don't break up with me," she says quickly. "Please don't. Please. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I molested you and I'm sorry I hurt myself and I'm sorry I wanted to fuck Sophie. I am so so so so sorry."

Hardison just sighs, leaning against the wall. She can tell this is hurting him. "Parker…"

"No," she says, and she can feel the tears well up in her eyes. She steps out of the shower and comes over to him. Her nakedness barely even fazes him anymore, and she doesn't know if that's a good or bad thing. "Please Alec, I'm sorry. You're the only thing that…" she bites her lower lip and looks down as she wipes one tear away. "You're the only thing that makes me able to do this… To try to be okay…"

"This just hurts me, Parker. All of this. I love you so much, and I'm trying so hard to help you and I feel like it's just getting worse."

"It's not!" she protests. "It's not, I made Sophie leave, remember?"

"But you also molested me and then sliced yourself open. That was because of _me._ If I wasn't there then that would have never happened."

Parker blinks, taking a step back from him. Whoa, that was a mind fuck. It was like seeing herself in the mirror. Oh no. "You're blaming yourself," she says slowly. "When it's my fault."

"It's not your fault entirely, I put temptation in front of you and then—"

"No!" she cries. "Shut up! Don't _say _that! You told me that what happened to me wasn't my fault, it was theirs. And what I did to you wasn't your fault! It's mine! I FUCKED UP! Okay? I… I… did something really bad to you and I'm so, so sorry. And maybe you shouldn't forgive me. I don't think I would. But don't sit there and say _it's your fault!_ I'm the one with the problem!"

"Parker…"

"No! No, you stand here and you tell me how sick I was for doing that! I want you to tell me that I fucked up, Alec! It's MY fault! Say it!"

"No, I won't—"

"SAY IT!" she screams, "Look at me! Look at what I am! Look at what I _did!_ It wasn't your _fault!_ Tell me I was wrong!"

"You were wrong, okay?!" Hardison screams suddenly. "Fuck, Parker. It made me feel… it made me feel like some sort of toy for your amusement, like you didn't even _care _that I said no, because you were gonna take it anyway! Yes, I love you, and yes I would've loved to make love to you when you're ready, but I can't believe you _did that!_ YOU SCARED ME! And now I'm so god damn paranoid when I go to bed that you're gonna do it again! I haven't slept in three days!"

"Fuck," he swears, and slides down the wall to sit on the floor, putting his head in his hands. Parker's bottom lip trembles.

"I am so sorry…" she tells him softly. "I am so… so sorry…" she's crying now, and he looks up at her. Their eyes just connect for a long time before he reaches up, touching her cheek lightly.

"I know," he says softly. Pain is written all over his face, and she knows it's the end. "But I don't know if I can forgive you right now."

She doesn't beg him, she doesn't tell him that she needs him. She can't. Her voice doesn't work anymore, and she just watches as he gets up, leaving her in a naked, distraught heap on the floor. So she does the only thing she can do… she just cries.

Parker didn't get out of bed for four days after that. All she did was cry. She cried so much she doesn't know how she hasn't shriveled up to a raisin by now.

Sophie stayed with her the most; no one else could bear to keep watch on her when all she did was cry. Sophie would hold her though, stroke her hair and try to comfort her. Sophie didn't know why they broke up, but she never asked. She just tried to keep Parker as relatively calm as she could. She started reading to her, just trying to get her mind off of things. Parker would lay her head in her lap and just stare at the wall, eyes bloodshot and mouth dry… and just try to think of the happy places Sophie was reading about.

On the fourth day, Parker told her what happened.

"I touched Alec when he was sleeping," she mumbles softly, while laying her head in her lap. The hand that's stroking her hair stops. Parker winces internally, waiting for her to yell or tell her she's disgusting or something.

Sophie sighs softly, and is quiet for a really long time. "That's why he hasn't been sleeping."

"He's scared of me now," Parker says, feeling the lump form in her throat. She turns to look up at Sophie, but Sophie doesn't look at her. She's just staring at the wall.

"Parker… that… how could you do that?"

"I don't know," Parker says, self loathing flowing up her throat. It tastes like bile. Fuck, maybe it was. She tries to force it down. "I hurt him, Sophie…" she chokes back a sob. "And I hate myself for it…"

Sophie tried to help her work through that, but it was hard. She was watched constantly by them for two whole months. For a while Hardison wouldn't be alone with her, but after a month went by, he started to feel a bit more comfortable around her. Parker was doing better too, a lot better. She was happier, even though she still felt empty without Hardison. She didn't try to have sex with any of them, she didn't touch any of them wrong. She didn't manipulate, and she tried very, very hard to get better.

She was down to masturbating only two times a week now, after two months. Eliot said that was more than acceptable, seeing as he wacked off at least three times a week. Nate made a face and told him to never share that kind of information again, even if he is trying to make a point. Eliot gave Nate a look with a smirk and a cocked eyebrow that Parker is pretty sure means he's coming to terms with his gayness for Nate. But she doesn't pry.

Mainly cause she'd rather not get yelled at again.

Everything was kind of back to normal again. Well, actually better than normal. She could go on jobs now, and she found the joy in stealing again. She laughed, she played, she had fun jumping off of buildings and feeling the adrenaline rush through her veins.

She didn't have sex for seven and a half whole months.

While it took time to get things better between her and Hardison, finally things were normal with them. It took months, but it was normal again. He smiled at her, and she loved being around him. They would make fun of Eliot together, laugh, just… have fun. They would hang out sometimes, just the two of them, now that she was doing better with her recovery.

They were lying on his couch one day, just watching a movie, when for the first time in so long… he held her hand. She smiled, but didn't say anything. She just snuggled up to him, and he put his arm around her. There was silence for awhile, until he says, "I'm still in love with you." It was quiet, like he didn't know if he should say it.

She had a lot of time to think about her and Hardison. And some months ago, she did realize she was in love with him too. He was everything to her, and it hurt her so much that because she had hurt him, they could never be together again. She fucked up her one chance.

So she wasn't going to fuck up her one chance to tell him, "I'm in love with you, too."

He purses his lips, looking down at her. She doesn't say anything. They just look at each other for awhile. And that was that… for awhile.

It was almost a month later that they kissed again for what felt like forever. They were running from security, and hid in a tiny little storage closet. Breathing heavy, adrenaline flowing through their body, they just looked at each other, pressed against each other so closely… and then it just happened. She has no idea which one of them moved first, but suddenly his tongue was in her mouth and her arms were wrapped around his neck and she kissed him with all the passion and feeling she could muster.

It was kind of awkward after that.

"We should… talk," Hardison tells her two days later, showing up on her doorstep.

They didn't talk for twenty minutes. They just kind of sat on the couch on opposite ends, stealing glances at each other. Finally Parker says, "You don't want to date me again."

"I shouldn't," he says, shifting uncomfortably. "I mean I… but I just…" he sighs, leaning his head back against the couch. "Damnit."

"You're mad 'cause you love me."

"It's hard because _you _love me," Hardison corrects. "I lived with unrequited love with you for a long time. I learned to not let it bother me. If we both love each other then just staying away is stupid and self-hurting. Right?"

Parker shifts nervously. She doesn't want to say anything… she wants it to be his decision. She has to have it be his decision.

"I need you to participate in this conversation, Parker," Hardison tells her softly.

"I don't know. I don't deserve to have an opinion."

He turns to look at her, "And this is what our relationship will be: you thinking you don't have a say in anything because you're racked with guilt."

"Maybe. I don't know. All I know is that it hurts when you're not around. It's like someone's stabbing me with blue safety scissors and then pouring glitter in the wound. Like some kind of beautiful, horrific art project on my chest."

He cocks an eyebrow at her for a moment, but then nods a little. "Yeah… I know."

"I want to make it better," Parker tells him, honestly. "I wanna make things good for you. I ruined them and I should be the one to fix them."

Hardison takes a slow breath, and looks at the wall. Parker counts the seconds it in her head that it takes him to speak. "Come… here, for a second," he requests, softly.

Parker moves over on the couch to sit next to him automatically. He just looks at her for a moment, before brushing the hair out of her face. It makes her smile, him touching her. "I love you," she says again, she just needs to say it. He smiles, and then he leans in, capturing her lips softly with his.

It was so much better dating Hardison when she was… well, better. It was funny, easier. She didn't feel the compulsive need to just rip his clothes off anymore, though she'd be lying if she said she didn't still think about it. It worried her for a minute, and she told Hardison, but he told her that it's normal. She didn't like that answer, told him that it's bad when she thinks of sex. It took awhile for him to convince her that it's not healthy to go from one extreme to the other. She needed a balance.

He did give her that balance, finally. One month and fourteen days after they started dating again, seven whole months since the incident… he made love to her. And god, did it scare the hell out of her. At least at first.

"What are you doing?" she asks, obviously frightened by the prospect of sex. His hand had touched her breast for the first time while they were kissing… ever.

"Sorry," he says automatically, withdrawing his hand. His breathing was just as labored as hers… they had been going at it for awhile. "I just… I'm sorry. That was my bad. My control issue."

"Sex is bad," she tells him.

"Parker, no. Sex is not…" he sighs. "It's not _bad._ Okay? I know you're scared because you think you won't be able to control yourself if you do, and I just wish you could see for one second how much, _amazing_ progress you've made. You're nothing like you were seven months ago. You've learned control."

"But what if I lose it?" she asks in a feeble voice. She chews on her bottom lip and admits, "I already think about you naked a lot. A LOT."

"I think about you naked a lot too."

"You do?" Parker asks. Does he have a sex problem now? Oh no, what if it's contagious?

He notices her worried look and her laughs a little bit. "Baby, it's _normal,_ okay? It's normal to think about wanting to touch each other. The main thing is that we've gone slow, okay? And we'll continue going slow, if that's what you want. Baby steps. We don't have to try this now if you don't feel ready."

Parker takes a deep breath. She did want to have sex with Hardison. Very badly, in fact. She knew she was wet, she was already planning on dealing with it herself later. But he wants to…

"Slow," she says. He moves to get off of her, thinking she meant slow as in not now, but she pulls him back. "No, I mean… just do it… slow. One thing at a time. I'll see what I can handle. But if I say stop, you have to stop."

"Parker," he says seriously. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes…"

"Then trust me when I say I am not going to push you into anything. I can wait another six months if I have to, okay? I promise you that."

She nods slowly, biting her bottom lip nervously. "Should I get naked?" He smirks a little at her, amused.

"Not yet."

And then he kisses her, and she forgets all about everything for awhile. It's just kissing, him lying half on top of her. After awhile she feels his hand slowly making its way down her body, over her clothes, making all of her senses feel like they were on fire. She pushes into him a little, letting him know it's okay. It wasn't scaring her yet. She had a handle on this.

His lips fall to her neck and she closes her eyes, grabbing onto his shirt with her hands as she moans softly. Everything in her body was tingling, as if it was finally letting her feel all the anticipation she kept shoved down in a dark little closet for a long time. He whispers in her ear that she's beautiful, and she smiles and bites down on her lower lip as she feels his hand start to go under her shirt.

But when he touches her, it's like nothing else mattered for one brief moment, and she got aggressive. She flips him over, lips crashing against his, only to break for one short moment as she pulls her shirt up over her head and tosses it to the ground. But in that moment he also said:

"Parker, relax. Slow…"

She stops, breathing heavily for a moment, looking down at him. Damnit, look what she did! He touches her once and she becomes some sort of animal. He can see the distraught look on her face, so he quickly says, "No, no, it's not bad. You're fine, okay? I half expected that to happen. It's fine, you're in control now, and you're _fine,"_ he stresses.

Parker breathes a little. "Okay…" she says, finally. "Okay, I can do this. I can have sex with you properly." He smirks.

"I don't think that 'proper' and 'sex' go in the same sentence."

She narrows her eyes at him. "Shut up," she says, but giggles as he rolls her back over so she's on bottom. "For some reason when you say proper I think of stuffy British people," he teases her, then puts on this horrible British accent, "Would you like a spot of tea? Maybe a brandy? And then afterwards we can romp around in a_ proper_ sexual manner!"

She giggles.

He kisses her again, and she's giggling into his mouth. She can feel him smile before he takes his lips off of hers and find their destination around one of her nipples. Her giggles turn to moans and she arches her back into him, letting out a little breath. "God," she whispers.

His lips don't stay on her nipple though; he's kissing every part of her that he can reach, and her hands are pulling at his shirt, trying to get it off. He sits up for a second to pull it over his head before his lips find hers again. This wasn't like normal sex. She had had sex hundreds of times, but it was never like this. This didn't feel dirty, and it didn't feel wrong. Every single time she'd had sex before this… she hated herself during it.

But she didn't hate herself now. She was _smiling _now.

She doesn't know why it feels different. Maybe it's because it's Hardison. Maybe it's because she's in love. Maybe it's because it's slow and it's sweet and he's not just using her pussy for his own pleasure. He's taking his time, making _her_ feel good. And it's weird, because even though she used to have orgasms… those orgasms didn't compare to this.

As they kiss they start discarding their clothes until finally… he's nude against her. Parker gasps from the feeling of him and her nails dig into his arm, trying to stay in control. She wants to throw him down and fuck the hell out of him, have him pull her hair and violate her. But he whispers softly in her ear, "You're okay… breathe. Slow…"

She purses her lips and nods, feeling heat shoot all the way up her spine from her core. God, he felt amazing against her. She takes a shuddering breath, willing to have control. She was fine. She was _not _going to just… take him. Have him take her and have it just be… just that. It had to be more than that.

He kisses her again, their tongues intertwining, their bodies pressed together, and he breaks only for a moment as his hand slides down over her stomach. "I'm going to touch you now," he tells her softly. "You going to be okay?"

Parker doesn't say anything for a moment, but grips him harder, knowing she has to concentrate to not become an animal. Finally she nods slowly, ready. His fingers slip over her slowly, and she tenses. She has to urge to throw him down again as she gasps, but he whispers, "You're okay… I'm going to make love to you, Parker… we're not just going to fuck… okay? So let me… let me…. just do this…" he's breathing heavily, and she can tell he's turned on just by finally touching her. She breathes and focuses on just _him,_ not the sex. When he presses against her clit she bites her lower lip and pants a little, grabbing onto him tighter.

"Alec…" she breathes out, closing her eyes. She spreads her legs a little for him, and she can feel him start to kiss down her stomach. He's caressing her softly, and she slides her hands off of him to let him move, grabbing onto the bed instead. But he's stopped right above her hairline… and then she feels it.

Hardison's kissing her… kissing her scars. Every single one of them. Something rises up in her that she can't control, and it's not the animalistic out of control urge she was fighting before. Now it's a lump in her throat, and she doesn't know why it's making her want to cry… but she does.

She sniffs a little, feeling a tear fall down her cheek. He looks up as he hears her, and his eyes go wide. "Baby, baby what's wrong?" he asks, coming back up to kiss her softly. "Parker don't cry… I won't kiss you there if you don't want me to…"

But it's not that. She doesn't know where it comes from, but she practically throws herself at him, kissing him between her crying desperation. He kisses her back, realizing that she's not upset, just getting emotional. He lays her back down, just kissing her for awhile. When the crying has mostly subsided, he kisses the tears away on her cheeks and she closes her eyes.

She really in no way deserves him.

Parker can feel him move for a second, and she opens her eyes to see him lean over to the bedside table and grab a condom. He holds it up to her in question. She can't speak, but she can nod. She holds out her hands to him and nods, pulling him to her again as her lips find his again.

She can still feel herself crying, but it's silently. The tears fall down her cheeks and he kisses them away again. She sniffs, wiping them with the back of her hand while he sits up and unwraps the condom. It made her feel like a virgin. At least… she supposes this is how it would feel. She never got to experience it properly, and she's pretty sure the nervousness and the anticipation and the emotion would probably be what happens.

At least she kind of saved her virginity for this man. This… perfect man…_ Her_ man…

She smiles a little at that thought, and he smiles back at her. When he's unrolled the condom onto his shaft, his lips are on hers again. She spreads her legs, positioning her hips to give him better access as she wraps her arms around his neck. Her heart is pounding in her chest, her breathing labored, and she looks into his eyes as he pulls away from her for a moment. "You alright?" he asks again, softly.

"I'm perfect," she tells him quietly. She smiles a little, the confidence in herself that she can do this rising, and she leans in and whispers, "Make love to me, Alec. Please…"

When their lips meet again, she can feel him at her opening. She almost holds her breath, waiting. But he's pausing, as if he's really unsure, and she begs softly against his lips, "Please…" before he finally slides inside of her. Her eyes close and she gasps, her nails digging into him, but not because of control - because of pleasure. "Oh my god…" she pants out as he starts to rock against her, his labored breathing tickling her lips.

It was so slow, so agonizingly slow but it was so perfect all at the same time. With each thrust she cried out his name, her back arching and her senses exploding. This wasn't sex; this was heaven. There was no way that this could ever be considered what she used to do because it was nothing like that. She can feel his body heat radiating off of him in waves, see the light sheen of sweat covering his body as they go at it for what seems like forever. He's so beautiful, every single part of him.

And what's more… for the first time in her life… _she_ felt beautiful. He made her feel like the most beautiful person in the world.

When they came, it wasn't mixed with cursing and screaming like all her other encounters. It was more a moment than something vocalized, though she_ was_ loud. She said his name over and over, not being able to stop. She held onto him as her head spun and her vision clouded and god… _that_ was a drug.

Hardison may not have been the first person to have sex with her, or even the one hundredth… but he was the only person to ever make love to her.

And she wouldn't trade that for anything.

**THE END**


End file.
